He Can Only Pray
by MoonyLover321
Summary: Chloe and Dean get into a little late-night scuffle, and Sam once again has to play mediator. Chlean Chloe/Dean


Summary: Chloe and Dean get into a little late-night scuffle, and Sam once again has to play mediator. Chlean Chloe/Dean

Author's Note: Hey! Just a little plot bunny that wouldn't leave… And I think it might be reproducing, because I already want to write another Chlean! I've only seen a few random episodes of Supernatural, so excuse any faux paux I might have made, but be sure to tell me about them! I love to learn, especially about hot guys… Hmm, maybe if the Winchesters taught some of my classes, I would pay more attention… Nah. I'd too busy wiping at my drool.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Yeah… Soooo not mine.

_**He Can Only Pray**_

"What the hell?!"

Sam sat up quickly in his bed and turned towards the commotion, eyes lidded with sleep and brow furrowed, just in time to see Chloe shoot up in bed and use one hand to shove Dean off of her while the other one yanked up the neckline of an old jersey which had been pulled low over her chest.

"Jesus, Chlo, relax! I was just--"

"Wassgoinon? What happened?" Sam said loudly, his mind still a little sleepy. God, could these two go just one night without getting into a stupid fight? _Chloe stole my pie, Dean always gets to drive, waah waah waah._ Ever since the petite blond had met up with them on one of their jobs in Kansas, told them that she was interested in their operation and invited herself into Sam and Dean's lives, his older brother and the "ferocious female" were constantly going at it. And not in the good way, either. Sam just sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, waiting to be the mediator in another of their silly old-married-couple arguments.

"Oh, nothing, I just woke up with my shirt pulled down past my bra and Dean hovering over me like a total creeper!"

"Lord, Chloe, I was just--"

"What?' Well, that certainly caught Sam's attention. He knew his brother had some, **ahem** unresolved feelings for the green-eyed beauty, but Sam thought he was too proud to ever do anything about them, especially not when she was sleeping! "Dean, man, what were you thinking?"

"Maybe 'I hope to God she doesn't wake up so I don't have to explain all of this to two crazy--'"

Sam caught Chloe's eye sharply and saw her bite her lip, obviously wondering the same thing he was. "Christo."

"Okay, you did NOT just say that to me! Man, I'm not possessed, I just--"

Chloe pursed her lips and swung her feet around her bed. "Well you're sure acting weird. I mean, I've known more than my fair share of creeps in my life, but that move right there definitely marks you a spot in the top ten." Sam couldn't resist the urge to nod in agreement with her words, a movement which earned him a death glare from his older brother.

Dean held both of his hands up in surrender, not even attempting to use words again for fear of the interruptions causing further confusion. He searched around blindly on the floor for a moment before holding up a sharpie with a triumphant smile and gesturing to it like Vanna White, making sure that Chloe and Sam could both see it.

"Yeah…" Sam's deep brown eyes crinkled around the edges in confusion, then widened slightly when Chloe pulled her jersey away from her chest and glanced down into it. She tilted her head a bit to see more clearly down her top, then sighed and rolled her eyes. When she raised her head to look accusingly at Dean, her just shrugged, running a hand through his short brown hair.

"Is this really necessary, Dean?"

Dean shrugged, clicking his tongue. "Kinda."

"Why?" Chloe crossed her arms and stared at him in a way that Sam knew meant Dean had better answer or he'd be in deep shit. Chloe may be small, but she could sure as hell make a guy feel ten inches tall when she glared at him.

"I dunno…" Dean mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and occupying himself with picking at a loose thread in the rough motel bedspread.

"Hold on, still confused," Sam called, waving a hand to grab their attention. "What's going on?" God knows, the way those guys communicated—all long, silent looks or short, meaningful glances—Sam would never understand anything unless he asked every once in a while. He meant it when he said that Chloe and Dean should go on "Million Dollar Pyramid" together—the boys would never have to use another fake credit card for the rest of their lives.

"Dean felt some crazy and apparently unexplainable need to draw a protection symbol on me in permanent marker," Chloe told him snappishly, still glaring at Dean, who continued to pick at the bedspread until she tugged it out of his reach. "Dean!"

"What?!" He yelled back at her, eyes wide in annoyance. Chloe stuck out her chin at him, warning him not to make her answer that question. Yeah, the chin lift was definitely one of their telepathic communication movements, Sam thought. Dean wasn't what anyone would call a fearful man, but Sam had seen his brother basically cower before the dreaded chin lift before. Dean sighed and tilted his head up towards the ceiling, preparing to answer her question. "Okay, God. I was just trying to help. That funky old cowboy demon broke your amulet four towns back and judging by the rate these bitch-ass monsters are popping up, we might not get to see Bobby for a new one for a while. A protection tattoo would be the best we could do, but for a chick who's not even close to a wimp, you're really against needles for some reason, so I thought a sharpie would work for a little while."

Chloe's chin went down slightly, so Dean continued to rattle on. "It's just, you know salt barriers are fine and all, but they can break, and what if Sammy and I are out on a job and something comes to the motel or something? Sure, you got a little bit of holy water here, but that won't hold off a Demon for long. And you could fire a sawed off like nobody's business, but you wouldn't exactly get the response you're used to from one of those sons-of-bitches. I just needed a way to protect you, at least for now. You need to be safe…"

As he trailed off awkwardly, Sam held his breath to see if Chloe would continue the fight by yelling at Dean for worrying about her or trying to protect her or basically taking off her shirt or whatever she would act like she was angry about. Shockingly, instead of throwing a reprimand at Dean, Chloe bit her lip for a moment before throwing the bedspread off of her and sliding off the bed to her knees on the ground. She reached out and caught Dean's chin with her forefinger and thumb, tilting his head up so he would look at her. Their eyes met, and _damn,_ even Sam felt the instant ran her thumb down the dimple in Dean's chin, smiling slightly as his breath audibly caught. She then pulled him into a tight hug. Dean was stiff in her arms for only a moment before he relaxed, burying his face into the hair at her neck and running his hands up and down her back.

Sam couldn't catch the words Dean whispered lowly into Chloe's ear, but he didn't really need to know, anyway. As long as they weren't fighting anymore, Sam had no more part in the matter. He grinned and scooted back underneath his covers, twisting to lie down on his stomach. When he turned his head, he saw Dean tenderly pushing back a strand of hair from Chloe's face before standing up and offering Chloe his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, grasping her in another tight hug with her extra momentum, then releasing her and pushing her down gently into the bed with a tender hand on her shoulder. She smiled and complied, laying down as Dean gathered up the worn old bedspread and draped it over her.

Sam heard them whisper their goodnights, then the soft thumps of Dean's feet as he made his way to the couch the brothers had been taking turns sleeping on for the last few days in the two-bed room. Sam turned his head away and finally settled down to sleep, almost succumbing to his need for rest before he was woken up by Dean once again.

"Would you really be so against getting a protection tattoo? They're pretty cool, and permanent, as long as you don't break the skin where it is. Come on, you could get one of those sexy tramp stamps…"

Sam heard Chloe snort before she answered Dean, voice muffled by her pillow. "Yeah, 'cause that's just the impression I wanna make on people."

Dean sighed loudly as Sam chuckled his approval, which didn't please his older brother. "Shut up, bitch."

"Sorry, jerk," Sam replied, causing Chloe to giggle. She always said she loved it when they acted like they hated each other because it was so obviously not true. When he said 'Yeah, sounds like a couple people I know,' she just got flustered and walked away with a lame excuse of 'I have to go… See if they have a continental breakfast here.'

The room was silent again for a minute. Then, Chloe's voice came out, quiet, but loud enough to be heard in the noiseless room. "I'll think about it."

Sam heard the coils in the couch squeak as Dean propped himself on his elbow. He turned his head to see Dean smiling softly at Chloe's form for a moment before he fell back down into the couch. "Good. We'll head find a tattoo parlor tomorrow."

"Dean, I said I'll _think_ about it," Chloe called from her bed, sitting up. "God, can't you listen?"

"Not for much longer than a second to your whiny voice, Blondie," Dean shot back, twisting around on the couch to look at her.

"You're so pushy sometimes, Dean! I mean, I know you're totally "badass" and all, but would a _little_ bit of sensitivity kill you?"

"Not so sure it wouldn't Princess."

"Lord, do you have to use those stupid nicknames all the time? I _do_ have a real name, you know! The one my parents gave to me at birth? I should start using a nickname for you—which would you prefer, J. Crew-cut or Jonny Depp wannabe?"

As their bickering continued, Sam just pulled a pillow over his head. Maybe today wasn't the day they would finally admit that they love each other, but hey, it's a step closer than yesterday. And who knows, maybe when they finally do get together, Sam could possibly get some sleep. He can only pray.


End file.
